Phone Calls
by OffTheGrass
Summary: Ever stop and think about a phone call’s effects?


Did you ever stop and think about phone calls? No, really. Did you ever ask yourself, "Hey, me. If this phone rings, how will it effect my life?" You didn't? Oh. Anyways, I have mixed feelings about phone calls. Some are good, some are bad, some are those bittersweet ones where you don't know whether to be happy or not. They can change your life in so many ways.

The first call I can remember very clear was when I was 5. My dad was at the mountain, and I guess my mom was on a mission with her team. I was over at Daniel's and Janet's house and Cassie was babysitting me. The phone rang and Cassie answered it. I don't remember the exact words, but she started shaking while she grabbed her car keys. She helped me put on my jacket and she drove to the mountain, over the speed limit. We went into the infirmary and I remember Janet and my dad were crying. What a great call to remember at 5 years old. My mom was killed on a mission. There was an ambush, and, well, that was that.

Another phone call I remember was from George. His granddauther's retriever had puppies and wanted to know if dad and I wanted one. I was 7 and all I wanted in the world was a dog. My dad had said no, not right now. It wasn't the right time. But I should've known. He's as big of a sucker for puppies as I am. He said we were going for a drive and sure enough, we went to George's house. We took a look and that night we brought home a dog. The next day Daniel and Janet went and got one too. My dad let me name it, but I was stumped. Naming a dog is a big issue for a 7 year old, let me tell you. One day we took both dogs in question to the park. For some reason someone in our group, it might've been Teal'C, said "Jaffa, kree." Both dogs came running and it stuck like glue. Ours was named Kree, and Daniel's and Janet's was named Jaffa. No one understands the humor of it outside of the SGC, so it's not uncommon for people to give us strange looks when we call them.

When I was 12, Cassie called and told me she was pregant. She and her husband now lived a few miles away and was a doctor at the SGC. Janet was only there on a reduced schedule, training the new recruits on various off world 'injuries'. Staff burns, zat blasts, etc. She had called to ask me something important. When she found it was a girl, she had asked my dad if it would be okay if she named it Samantha. My dad said yes, but it was ultimately up to me. It was a rhetorical question, really. Now at age four, little Sammy is one of the cutest, smartest, most spoiled kids alive. But, of course, I'm not biased or anything.

Now I'm 16, and I'm waiting for yet another phone call. Hindsight might be a pain either way, but at least you know what happened. I don't have that luxury right now. I stare at the tv, thinking about if Captain Archer is going to get some from another alien girl on Enterprise, but eventually my thoughts go back to phones and communications. Ever think about how phones work? One speaks into one end, another person hears it, and so forth and so on. Vibrations are converted into electrical or digital pulses, then they're carried through wires, bumped off of satellites, etc. You know how it goes. Do those little vibrations or pulses know that they're going to be carrying news, or just some bygone greeting? Good or bad? Naughty or nice? The phone finally rings, startling me out of my thoughts. It rings again and I hesitate for a second before grabbing the cordless off the chair beside me.

"Hello?"

"Hey, hun." It's Cassie calling from the mountain.

"Hey." It's a question lingering in the air and she knows it.

"Your dad is just fine. The knee replacement went great and there shouldn't be any complications or problems with it."

"That's great!" I say. It really is.

"He's in recovery right now and we're waiting for him to wake up and start grouching at us. I'm sorry to cut this short, but SG-11 is coming back early due to some weather and I need to get cleaned up. I'll talk to you later. Bye!" She hung up, being like that often.

I put the phone back down beside me and smile. Now all I have to do is wait for my dad to call and try to get me to spring him from the infirmary. I get up and go to the kitchen; I'm finally hungry again. I start laughing. Some days, phone calls are the best thing.


End file.
